As my last year of high school comes to a close, I’ve reflected on a lot and asked myself questions like: “How did I get here?”
“Who do I need to thank in my graduation speech?”
“How do I want to give back to the community?”
Chardon Black’s essay was first published on the CMSD Civics 2.0 ‘Unsilenced Voices’ blog. Read more student work, including a poem from graduating senior Kayden Ferris.
One of the most shocking of all my reflections wasn’t anything to do with school, but, rather, how I got there. For the past three years, like thousands of other high schoolers who get a free bus pass from Cleveland Metropolitan School District, I’ve taken the bus to and from school basically every single day. Sitting in those blue Greater Cleveland RTA seats and staring out the foggy windows did not just bore me – it developed me into the dedicated scholar I am today. Here’s how:
Swallowing my pride, swiping my fare
I vividly remember my mom telling me at the beginning of my 10th-grade year (COVID took my 9th) that she wouldn’t be driving me to school every day and that I’d have to “take the bus like everybody else.” The fact was, at the time at least, my family couldn’t afford to get me a car or even pay for driving school. I hated that. I’d always unconsciously felt the stigma around using the bus. That it was “smelly;” that people on it were rude; and that I’d never be able to find a seat.
And yet, I had to swallow my pride, swipe my fare, and hope I’d find a seat before the bus driver sped off.
As a result, taking the bus for the next three years taught me the value of overcoming financial inequities. I didn’t need a car to go places. I didn’t need a car to explore the world.
In a sense, I was set up for success. I had to humble myself. Taking the bus taught me that money wasn’t going to be the deciding factor of my life. I didn’t need a car to become valedictorian, I just needed the motivation to get up and catch the 48 bus on time every morning. I didn’t need a driver’s license to get into Princeton, just the dedication to deal with the occasional loud group of students on the bus. Swallowing my pride and accepting the financial situation I was in allowed me to blossom into someone who is deeply motivated and willing to work hard to overcome challenges.
Fluent bus riding brings independence
In addition, I’ve found myself enjoying an extreme level of independence, autonomy and control over my life by taking the bus. I don’t just take the bus to and from school. I take it to parties, community events, social activities, after-school and weekend engagements, and more. I don’t need to beg my mom to drive me anywhere, because I can get there myself – as long as I figure out how to use the transit app.
Before I became fluent in bus riding, I was dependent on others who were blessed with a driver’s license to chauffeur me around. Taking the bus has taught me the value of finding my way, both literally and figuratively. As a result, I’ve applied that same philosophy to many parts of my life.
I constantly think to myself, “How can I do this in a manner that is unique, independent, and in a lane of its own?” or “How can I minimize the amount of effort on this while also maximizing its success?” And that’s what I believe has led to my success.
A daily ride to reflect
Some of the highest and lowest points of my life have been followed by taking the bus. Victories in mock trials, big exams, and class fundraisers – like clockwork, I’m sitting right back on the bus. Experiences with heartbreak, familial losses and personal failure, and, like clockwork, I’m sitting right back on the bus. It’s taught me something that I carry with me every day:
Life moves too fast.
We move too fast.
Sometimes, in my experience, things just seem to go, go, go. Never stop grinding, never take a break, never process your emotions and your experiences. And, as I have observed, that’s dangerous. I’ve watched people get trapped in a continuous cycle of danger, self-sabotage and pain because they never take a second to truly think about their lives and the things they’ve done. But the bus forces me to do that, every single day.
I have to sit on the bus for (at least) 30 minutes twice a day, no matter what. And while I could just spend the time scrolling through my TikTok feed, I’ve found solace in simply staring out the window and reflecting. I tell myself things like, “Today was a good day because…” or “I need to do better at… because…” That 30 minutes of peace, of thinking, allows me to become a better man because I’m truly developing myself based on my experiences. I’ve sat on the bus and planned scholarships, accepted heartbreaks, and, overall, connected with my spirit at a level most people don’t have the opportunity to do.
Though I’ve had some iffy experiences (like falling face-first out of the door onto the sidewalk), I wouldn’t change a thing. The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that in life you are dealt a set of cards. Some cards are better, some cards are worse. But every day, it’s your job to get up and do the best you can with the cards you’ve been dealt.
Though I am currently in the process of getting my license, I couldn’t be more grateful for the bus card I’ve had all these years.
Hear from Chardon:
